in yellow cicada memories      I feel

the path your mouth makes       D

O

W

N

my spine, verdant field           and

orange sky our only witnesses.           lost

hues of carefree youth                             without

red flags but warped from blue pills. then      you

traded me in for white lies and black tar.       although

you let the color seep out of you,       I felt

someone slinking silvery beneath your skin.  this

one made me green with envy, the     way

she picked your locks. but      before

the gray areas clear, I want to tell       you

those long sleeves never         showed

the purple marks trailing         U

       P

your arms.

 

Rachel Lenich is a junior majoring in English. She was a finalist in this year’s Academy of American Poets Prize, and she was on the evaluation boards and copy editing staff for this issue. Her biggest goal in life is to have cool stories to tell. When she isn’t writing, you can find her hiking Pennsylvania’s peaks, cuddling with her cats, or chugging coffee.